Disgraced
by sherlolly-shipper221B
Summary: Maid Molly Hooper begins a new job to serve Master Sherlock Holmes, the mysterious younger son of Holmes Manor. Victorian AU. Historical AU. Servant / Master relationship. Sherlolly one shot.


**Hello! I'm really excited to be posting my longest story ever and the one I have put the most effort into. I'm so nervous about releasing my baby to the world! All is owned by Mofftiss. **

**This story was inspired after I read A Clash Of Classes by CretianStar especially the AU and the water fight scene. However THEY ARE NOT THE SAME STORIES. IT'S REALLY OBVIOUS HOW DIFFERENT THEY ARE IF YOU READ THEM BOTH. THIS PLOT IS MY OWN. But if you like this story you will LOVE that one.  
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**Dedicated to superwholockian7473 whose birthday is it soon and who knows how long I have been writing this thing. **

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><p>"Sherlock dear? Your new maid is here. Now listen here, I am sick to the teeth of you frightening the staff away with your experiments and what not. It's such a hassle to have to keep re-hiring. If you frighten this one away I shall stop paying for your servants and you shall have to cope by yourself. I mean it Sherlock!"<p>

Sherlock merely rolled his eyes.

His mother entered his rooms after Sherlock made no verbal reply to her knock, followed shyly by a girl. She had to be about 16, a year younger than he was. She was rather petite and her arms were bony from malnourishment, just a skeleton in slightly stretched skin clothes. Judging from the way her cotton dress hung, her legs couldn't be any more muscled. Sherlock wondered if she'd be up to the task of serving him.

"This is Molly, Sherlock." Lady Holmes turned and addressed Molly. "You remember your duties? Good, now get to work. Clean his room first, God knows it needs it." Servants were expected to remain invisible but this room clearly needed immediate attention and had to be cleaned even if Sherlock was still present. Lady Holmes was weary of her more difficult son and decided that it would be good for him to see that messes didn't just disappear.

She sighed slightly, left the room and Molly set about clearing up. It had taken a few days for the Holmes family to find someone new after Sherlock had frightened away the last maid with his experiments on eyeballs. It was getting rather embarrassing to have to keep hiring. The resulting mess in Sherlock's study/lab was indeed rather extreme. It looked like a small spirit had run around the room throwing everything as far away from its proper place as possible. Molly set about clearing up the equipment left lying around.

Sherlock waited to have to tell her off for manhandling his possessions but Molly was very careful with his delicate equipment. She didn't even scream at the jar of thumbs, just placed them with the rest of the body parts without batting an eyelid. Hm. Interesting.

"Dead things don't frighten you then?"

Molly was startled at being talked to.

"No Sir."

Sherlock reclined back in his chair and made a mental note not to frighten Molly away. It was rare to find someone who was not repelled by his experiments and anyway it would be so tedious to have to persuade his mother to hire another maid. She wasn't lying when she said that she'd leave him to stew in his own sauce. It would take at least a month for the mess to grow so repellant as to force her to hire someone to clean it. Definitely a woman, he couldn't stand the male servants for some reason. Perhaps it was rather improper for him to have a maid instead of a valet of some kind but 'anything for a quiet life' his mother decided.

A few weeks into her employment at the Holmes estate and Molly was holding up well. The work was still hard but no harder than that of her last job. She was still awake at six, began work at half past six (lighting Sherlocks fireplace and putting on his kettle. She could have had to have done the whole family's so she supposed she was lucky in that respect.) and delivered the tea at seven just like her last place. She was amused to find that Sherlock detested the early rising he was subject to just as much as she, but luckily didn't take it out on Molly as he had done other maids. In fact Sherlock did nothing to upset her in any way, which was not what Molly had expected after what Lady Holmes had said on her first day.

Indeed, Sherlock was a perfect gentleman. He often talked to her as though she was a human which was unlike the other employers Molly had dealt with, who had treated her as though she was cow manure, disgusting but necessary for the flowers to grow.

He was kind when he directed her with a task, would ask her if she was feeling tired and had even been known to help carry things for her if she had a heavy load. He had even been known to help Molly polish the silver (he claimed it helped him think). His mother would have fainted from shock had she seen.

He had even fed her occasionally (perhaps more than occasionally), always with comments complaining that she was not fed enough and he was fed too much. Combined with the nourishment she received from the matronly cook Mrs Hudson and Molly could feel strength returning to her body.

Which was why, when he'd asked for help with an experiment on her first day off, she hadn't bothered to tell him that she wasn't working that day.

"I'll need you to lift this Molly, higher, that's it. Perfect. Stay like that until I tell you to put it down."

She hadn't minded holding his equipment up for him (something to do with waves? Although what that had to do with this piece of metal she was holding, she had no idea) because it gave her chance to watch him work. He was so intelligent and Molly had always wanted to learn, she'd just never had the chance.

She watched him for about half an hour until Sherlock's mother burst in.

"She- Oh! Molly, isn't your day off? Yes, you're resting before the ball preparations get underway, I remember it distinctly."

Finally a mistress who remembered these things (even giving her days off! Her last placement gave her an afternoon off on Sunday and a day off once a year for Mothering Sunday as was custom) and cared for the staff and yet here it was haunting her!

Sherlock looked confused. "Day off? Molly you should have told me!"

Molly blushed. "I don't mind helping Sir."

Lady Holmes chuckled "Nonsense dear, go and have a ride on one of the ponies if you have nothing to do."

Molly left in silence, angry at herself for wanting to spend more time than necessary with her mysterious and handsome master.

Sherlock sighed. He could still do the experiment without help but… It wouldn't be the same without her there.

His mothers voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I was just going to say, Sherlock, that you need to get out of the house. Go riding with Molly if you enjoy spending time with her so much but please just go outside for once. It's not healthy to stay cooped up inside this long." Lady Holmes swept out of the room to continue directing the household.

Molly tried to stop blushing as she made her way down to the stables. It was an impossible task (how do you stop blushing?) but she tried anyway. Molly Hooper didn't care for the word impossible.

She relaxed when she entered the stables. Having grown up on a farm, she could ride well and loved to do so. The stable was neutral ground, a place where she was comfortable in herself. The horses brought a sense of calm to her.

One of the two stable boys at work approached her.

"You're Molly yeah? I seen you around the big house. Come for a ride?"

"Hello, yes. Mistress has given me permission to give one of the ponies a ride. Fine animals aren't they?"

"Indeed Miss. I'll get that saddled up for yer. It's a shame though. Thought you might have come for some other reason." He winked lewdly with heavy lidded eyes and Molly was repelled by the stench of fish swimming on his breath.

Molly smiled politely. What could she say to that? He was repellant and Molly couldn't wait to be galloping on the fields away from this carp of a man. Still, Molly reminded herself, it was ever so refreshing to have a mistress who allowed the servants to ride as it 'kept the horses fresh and prevented them from being idle'.

The other stable lad finished brushing a chestnut horse, gathered his equipment and left. Molly hadn't even noticed him in the background but now that he was gone she realised how grateful she had been for his presence. They were alone. The stable boy grew bolder in his efforts.

"You up for some fun?" He grew closer to Molly, forgetting the saddle. "Come on love, you know you want to. Sweet little thing like you must get bored and… lonely"

Molly attempted to squirm away but the unknown stable lad pressed on.

Sherlock Holmes entered the stable just in time to see a clearly distressed Molly being grabbed on the wrist by some ignorant boy whilst she attempted to back away from his filthy touch.

Instinctually he strode up to the pair, enraged at seeing his maid being attacked. He had tried so hard to keep her with him (for… practical reasons of course. Not because he couldn't bear to see her leave, no.) He would not have his efforts squashed by imbecile with more dirt on his body than brain cells and who had more teeth than baths in his lifetime.

"Leave her alone!" He called, his voice raised and very close to shouting.

Molly looked up, startled. That was it. This was officially the worst day of her life. She felt so ashamed. Often in these situations the women were often blamed for leading the men on and she couldn't bear the thought of her ethereal master thinking her promiscuous.

"I'm sorry Sir, I weren't… I wasn't…" The stable boy stammered his apology. It was not for her benefit but Molly was ridiculously relieved to hear the boy apologising. You could only apologise if it was you that had done something wrong, right?

"I will not have any of my household assaulting innocent girls. Leave my presence." Sherlock demanded.

The boy almost ran away. Molly could have whooped with joy to see the back of him. His flabby behind wobbled as if to say goodbye.

Sherlock turned to Molly and she saw his eyes soften after the hard look he had given to the fish boy.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"No Sir, but thank you for your assistance."

"Oh… It's fine. It was no trouble. Mother was nagging me to go outside so I decided to go for a ride and.." He trailed off.

"I'm going for a ride too."

"Oh! Would you uhh… Would you like to accompany me?"

Molly smiled. Was he blushing?

"Wouldn't it be a little improper Sir?"

"Of course not, it's your day off."

"Well in that case Sir I would love to."

No! What was she doing? She couldn't go on a ride with him! He was too handsome and clever and brave and brilliant… Oh Holy Mary! What was she thinking? He was her master and that was something she should not forget thank you very much.

No! What was he doing? He couldn't go on a ride with her! She was too sweet and beautiful and unspoilt by the image of women that this ridiculous society insists on. She was interested in Science and determined and… Oh Lord! What was he thinking? She was his maid and nothing could ever happen between them, Mother would never allow it. Wait, where the hell were all these thoughts of their future coming from? There was no 'them' anyway. He should just push these thoughts away from him.

Sherlock helped her onto her pony due to lack of available stable boys. Molly was rather flustered by his strong hands on her waist.

"No Molly, no we've discussed this!" She scolded herself.

He mounted the chestnut and they galloped off into the fields together. The wind stole tendrils of Molly's hair from underneath her cap and sent it flying around her face. Sherlock had never seen her hair as it had always been tucked tightly underneath her cap. It was a beautiful shining brown and the sun shone through its strands.

"No no no. No more thinking about my maid's hair for crying out loud!" Sherlock reminded himself. He sped up.

"Race you!" He called, laughing for the first time in a long time.

"But you have the head start!" She called after him, speeding up to match his pace.

She started to laugh and they were both laughing now like little children. Happiness bubbled over them and Molly forgot her dead father and her sick mother whom she had to support and Sherlock forgot his dull future of a dull wife and dull children and a dull life which lead to a dull death with no exciting puzzles to fill his mind.

"Molly's a puzzle." He idly thought to himself then immediately banishing the notion.

The raced into the woods, slowing their pace so as not to bump into any trees. Sherlock knew these wood incredibly well having hunted there since he was young and often riding deep into its leafy depths when he felt a need to get away. He led the way and Molly just had to do her best to keep up. She didn't know it but he was leading her to his favourite hiding place, a place he'd never shown anyone before.

Eventually they arrive at a secluded river which ran over shining pebbles. There was a ceiling of trees above them lighting the spot with filtered green light. Beams of light broke through leaving little dappled spotlights illuminating the soft green grass and small patches of daisies. It was one of the most beautiful places Molly had ever seen.

She gasped and Sherlock smiled as he gauged her reaction.

"It's rather nice isn't it?" He said "I used to come here sometimes when I wanted to be alone."

Uh oh. Had he really just admitted that this was his special place? Damn! He couldn't let her know how strongly he felt about her.

"I love it." She said in awe. She dismounted from her horse and ran over to the river standing right on the edge of the bank, peering in. "I used to love paddling in streams when I was a girl, until I was old enough for it to be improper to show my ankles."

The river was about the length of her hand (from the tip of her middle finger to her wrist) deep from the bank but Molly still managed to lean too far, overbalance and fall in the moment she finished speaking. The cold water enveloped her and before she could feel embarrassed she laughed.

"Better to laugh it off than to mope." She thought.

Sherlock on the other hand looked rather concerned.

"I say, are you alright?" He asked, dismounting his horse and rushing over to help her up. He held out his hand which she took but before either of them knew what she was doing Molly pulled him in so that they were both lying on the pebbles with water chilling their veins.

Molly instantly regretted pulling her master, a man she should respect, into the river with her. Before she could stammer out an apology Sherlock cried out "I'll get you for that you little-" and he threw water all over her, dampening her hair.

Molly laughed again and Sherlock delighted in its chime.

"Not if I get you first!" And she cupped her hands, splashing him as ferociously as she could. It quickly escalated into a full grown water fight. Sherlock had the upper hand and Molly was quickly drenched from head to toe. They had both stood up in the process of the fight and suddenly they both stopped.

They were both hyper aware of how close they were and how over familiar they were acting. The same thoughts rushed through both of their heads. What were they doing? Sherlock was destined to marry some rich heiress one day, Molly destined to marry a commoner, whichever man became her sweetheart (not that she was even allowed followers as a maid). They shouldn't even have been riding together. If the Lady Holmes hadn't been so busy with the ball she was holding next week she would have realised what an inappropriate idea it was and wouldn't have urged her son to galavant around with his maid.

After a few infinite moments an impulse seized Sherlock so violently that it would have killed him not to do it. So he did. He kissed Molly. And she kissed him back.

Molly was not a flirtatious girl. Many boys had approached her over the years but Molly knew that they were not to be trusted. She was always careful as to not be alone with a horny boy. So careful was she that she had never been kissed.

Making this her first. And what a first! Joy exploded inside her. She felt as if a piece of her had been missing. A Sherlock shaped piece. And now after being used her whole life to being incomplete she was finally together again. It was heaven. Molly's entire being lit up with happiness Sherlock's arms hugged her close as if he couldn't bear to have any distance between them.

Perhaps they had only been kissing for a few hours or perhaps it had only been a few minutes. They eventually separated. It felt like being ripped apart.

"I'm sorry." He said breathlessly "I shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?" Molly frowned.

"Because I practically attacked you. I'm no better than that stable boy."

"No." Molly was rather surprised at her stark contradiction, so different from how she had been taught to address her betters.

"Sorry?" He was confused.

"No, you didn't attack me. You… took the initiative. I rather wanted you to." She smiled a little.

"But… Still… I can't be with you Molly, you know that as well as I." A great sadness filled his eyes.

"Would it make it easier for you if I moved away?" She asked tentatively, secretly dreading the prospect.

"No! I couldn't bear it if I couldn't see you again!" Molly smiled at his worried expression. No one had ever wanted her around before outside of her family.

"Nor I you." She replied softly.

"But I don't think I'll be able to bear seeing you every day and not being with you either."

"What'll we do?" She asked helplessly

"I have absolutely no idea." This was a first. Sherlock Holmes, completely clueless.

He looked so helpless, so out of control of his own life that Molly grabbed his lapels and pulled him down for a second kiss. He was adorable when he was lost.

Time slipped away from their fingers like sand in the wind. They kissed and sat on the banks and talked of their lives and kissed again and before they knew it the sky had grown dark. Sherlock glanced to the heavens.

"Damn!" He groaned "Mother will wondering where I am."

"Oh!" Molly gasped "I'm meant to be helping the kitchens with the food for the ball!"

They scrambled up off the banks and mounted the horses (who had fallen in love with each other as well that evening, which is another story for another time. But I will say that it resulted in two beautiful foals). They galloped at full speed towards the stables and practically flew to the respective places they were meant to be. But it was with a heavy heart that they parted.

The following days were hectic and crawling at the same time. Molly was rushing around helping to preparations of the food and getting the rooms ready and Sherlock was forced into an array of suit fittings and lectures from his mother about 'etiquette'.

She was boring him to tears with her speeches about "finding a nice young lady to court." She droned on and on saying "Yes, I know you're not interested but you'll have to marry someday and if you don't find someone we'll have to pick for you." However Sherlock had long since mastered the art of blocking her out. She said the same things before every ball they'd ever attended.

Whilst she talked about "dancing with a lady" (honestly, he knew how to dance) his mind drifted to Molly. Her laughing as she threw water at him. Her kissing him. Her smiling at him when they saw each other.

That smile…

It said 'I'm happy to see you". It said "You are my secret". It said "I love you".

They couldn't see each other in the day but after Molly had finally finished working they'd sneak away to meet up. Sherlock was an expert on places no one would find them and they'd stay together until the wee hours of the morning. Molly was always exhausted the next day, as she had to work for six to half past ten, but it was a happy sacrifice. On the morning of the ball they found time to meet up in a small cupboard. They were pressed tightly together and Molly found herself blushing.

"I don't think this is working" Said Sherlock quickly. Molly's face fell.

"You mean… You don't want… I thought…" She stuttered.

"No, I didn't mean I want to stop seeing you." She sighed in relief

"Then… what…"

"I can't bear to be so close to you every day and not be with you. It's agony. So I've got a proposition for you." He paused nervously.

"Run away with me." He said, looking deep into her eyes. She gasped and her mouth fell open unattractively.

"Really?" She asked "Do you really mean it?"

"I never say anything I don't mean."

"When?" She asked breathlessly

"Does that mean you'll come?" He asked, his face lighting up with joy.

"Of course." She said "Of course I'll come."

"It'll ruin you." He warned "I'll be chucked out of upper class society and you'll be shamed."

"I don't care." She said determinedly.

"Alright then. I think we'd best do it tonight, during the ball. Mother will be so distracted she won't notice I'm gone for a few hours. The driver owes me a favour and he'll take us to the nearest church. We'll have to be married as soon as possible so they can't separate us. I've a flat in London we can use and some money to tide us over until I can get work with the police." He rattled off at full speed.

"Oh Sherlock" Molly's eyes were bright "Marriage?"

"I assumed that was a given."

Molly made no reply but merely pulled him down for a passionate kiss.

After their plans were solidified Molly left to get on with her work and Sherlock sat in the cupboard for a moment, contemplating the dramatic change his life had taken. Looking back, he believed he'd been in love with Molly for far longer than he realised. Her quiet fascination with Science. Her sweetness. Her loyalty.

He was snapped out of his love sick daze by the cupboard door being yanked open.

"There you are!" His mother exclaimed. "I've looking for you! Are you hiding from me in a cupboard? Young man I've been planning this ball for too long for you to ruin it." She yanked open the door and pulled her son out.

"Come with me." She commanded. "I have something I need to tell you."

Sherlock was taken to his Mother's personal parlor. She sat him down on a powder pink stool next to her vanity and her maids began to start arranging her hair.

"Sherlock darling you know I've put a lot of effort into this ball."

He began to zone out, disgruntled. Blah blah blah… best behaviour... blah blah blah… opportunity… blah blah blah… marriage… It was all the same. Hang on, marriage?

"Marriage?!"

"Oh I knew you weren't listening! I was trying to tell you that I've planned this ball for you to find a future wife."

"No mother, I can't!"

"But you must! You have to carry on the family! And you know me and your father will pick one if you don't. I've been trying to get you find someone you liked for an age but this time I'm quite serious. You have to find someone. Tonight. What about the Lady Irene Adler? You were quite fond of her once…"

Sherlock gritted his teeth. When was she going to let that go? He had been intrigued with her yes, but not in a 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you and have lot of sex and babies' way. Not like Molly. Honestly, he couldn't talk to one female without his mother thinking of him marrying her!

"...Anyway she'll be at the ball and I know she's still interested so if you can't find anyone you like better then you have to marry her! For heavens sake, show her some interest at least."

Knowing that he'd barely be at that ball until he found a moment to slip away, Sherlock agreed to his Mother's demands before she whipped out the guilt card and started going on about how 'I've done this all for you, so that you can have a better life.' etc. etc.

She gleefully embraced him and gave him a sloppy kiss on the ear much to the distress of the maids whose carefully constructed, half finished hair tower upon the old woman's head fell out at the sudden movement. Sherlock felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach at the thought of leaving her and embarrassing the family, (her worst nightmare), but he comforted himself, knowing she would recover in the end.

She would be the most affected by his leaving, he knew. His father barely left his study and he'd been on bad terms with his brother Mycroft for years. They wouldn't miss him. But that didn't matter. He'd have to get a wife anyway and at least this way he was happy.

Throughout the day both Sherlock and Molly were too busy to see each other. Sherlock was kept in his rooms by his mother, getting dressed and presentable, giving him yet more lectures on manners and deportment. Molly was mostly in the kitchen, cooking and arranging food with the usual staff and the extra caterers brought in for the occasion. She was exhausted and sweaty but all day she was kept light and happy by the thought of Sherlock Holmes and their new life together.

There was no one else truly keeping her at Holmes Manor. Her sick mother, the only family she had, lived nearer to London, where she would stay with Sherlock, than here. Sherlock had promised that he had enough private funds to keep her Mother comfortable so she need not work again which lightened Molly's heart. That said, she had a fondness for the maternal cook, Mrs Hudson. Molly was able to say goodbye to her discreetly during a five minute break.

"Well deary I'm glad we don't have a ball every month, what a nightmare that'd be…"

"Mrs Hudson?"

"Yes love?"

"I'm glad I met you."

"What's brought this on? I'm glad I met you too love. You remind me of me when I was young. Just remember to be happy. I worry you'll work yourself to death. Be happy."

Molly smiled through the rest of her words, taking this advice as approval for what she was about to do.

Soon enough the first guests began to arrive. Molly changed into a smarter dress to wear for waitressing. The waiting duties were mostly being performed by professionals but Lady Holmes had chosen her and a few others from her own household because 'I trust you and I know you won't show me up.'

Sherlock had to be there to greet them and as a farewell gift to his mother (though she didn't know it) he was polite and courteous to them all with no deductions spoken out loud. He caught Molly's eye from time to time and once, when he was certain no one was looking at them, he winked at her. She giggled and tried to look professional.

Soon enough Lady Adler arrived and was led up to Sherlock by his mother who immediately went to mingle with other guests, leaving him alone with the dark haired beauty.

"Sherlock dear, when was it we last met? Did I see you in my travels to Bohemia?"

"Perhaps. I've traveled a fair amount." He was polite but not encouraging. He had to be seen to be socialising so that his mother would take her attention off of him long enough for him to slip away but not engage this woman in conversation so long that he would lose his opportunity.

"Mmm. Oh you must thank your mother for putting on this splendid ball!" She leaned forward flirtatiously. "I'm really looking forward to dinner."

"There will be five courses, I hope you're hungry."

She hummed in agreement, annoyed that he didn't read the subtext. Suddenly Lady Cynthia, an ex-lover of Lady Irene spotted the small party and approached the conversation, trying to get Irene's attention subtly.

They soon became so engaged with each other, flirting and remembering what had attracted them to each other in the first place, that Sherlock was quite easily able to leave the conversation and then the room through a side door without being noticed by anyone other than Molly.

Upon seeing him leave she made her excuses ('I'm needed in the kitchen') and left, creeping into the grounds. She went to the gardens, at the very bottom of which was the carriage, ready to slip through a secret back door.

The gardens were several acres big with mazes and shaped trees and such. They were magnificent in the day but creepy and foreboding at night. Molly had to be very careful not to get lost.

As she made her way through the vast hedges and bushes, nearer and nearer to her goal, a cloak secured round her shoulders, a slim figure stepped out of a shadow and into her path. Molly shrieked in surprise and then noticing the clothes of a Lord she dropped into curtsey.

"My apologies Sir."

"What are you doing here, girl?" Drawled Lord James Moriarty who had been lurking away from the suffocating crowds and having a draw on his pipe.

Molly quickly fabricated an excuse.

"Mistress sent me to hunt for an earring she had lost earlier in the day."

James Moriarty took in the figure before him, her youthful freshness that work had not yet ebbed, her comly yet not buxom figure and endearing petiteness. He calculated how far her scream would travel. Certainly not to the far away party. And he was so very bored…

"A young defenceless girl, out alone in the dark, so far from the house? Well you're just asking for it!" He lunged at her and she shrieked again and tried to bat him away.

Suddenly a panting figure was upon them, wrestling the predator to the ground. After a quick struggle, during which Molly looked helplessly on, confused and at a loss of what to do, Lord Moriarty was knocked unconscious and Sherlock Holmes was caressing Molly's head.

"Are you alright? What happened? I heard you scream from the carriage and I ran here as soon as I could. It wasn't until you screamed again that I could properly find you."

"I'm fine." She sobbed "But we must leave, before they realise we're gone. Go go go!"

With that he took her hand and they both ran to the carriage at the back gate, where the driver was waiting along with what Sherlock was able to pack discreetly. They collapsed inside and Sherlock anxiously banged the roof of the carriage in a command to start the horses. They tried to catch their breath, knowing that they had run more than they ought.

The horses surged forward and they both sighed in relief. As soon as Sherlock and Molly were out of the gate they clung to each other, scarcely believing that they had done it.

They laughed and kissed and cried and lay in each others arms and as soon as Sherlock was completely satisfied that Molly was not harmed, they talked about their future together.

"I have a contact in the Police. I can work with them now, solving crimes." Sherlocks face shone as he spoke the words, revelling in his dream future. Molly's head was in his lap and he was stroking her hair excitedly.

"You'll be brilliant, I know it. Will you help me with my studies? Now that I don't have to work I'd like very much to get an education." Molly asked shyly.

"Of course! You'll be the cleverest woman in London as well as the prettiest and the happiest and the…"

"Oh stop you!" She batted at him playfully.

"We can teach our children too. How many do you want?"

"As many as possible!"

"Me too!" Said Sherlock, revealing his secret fondness for children.

There was a gleeful pause. A single tear glided down the smooth surface of Molly's cheek.

"Why are you crying Molly?" He frowned.

"I'm so happy! I never thought I'd ever be with anyone as wonderful as you!"

He bent to kiss her lips tenderly. Then his face and tone grew more serious.

"I've left a letter to my mother, explaining everything. I owe her that much. But I doubt she'll want to speak to me again after this."

"I'm so sorry. That's my fault."

"Molly Hooper. Don't you ever feel sorry for anything. You are the best thing to ever have happened in my life. And I'm thankful."

And with words like these the carriage ride slipped away in a blissful euphoria. They arrived at their new flat and, too keyed up to sleep, they continued talking and caressing and revelling in each other.

They soon received word a raging and furious letter from Sherlock's mother imploring him to come back so that everything could be smoothed over. But by then it was too late as they had married as soon as they could find a priest who was awake and willing to perform such a hurried ceremony.

And by the time an apologetic (but not regretful) reply was penned Molly Holmes was (though they did not know it) already with child, proof of their love and the first of many to come.

Sure enough Sherlock was expelled from all 'decent' company and was the subject of gossip for months to come, not that he cared. Soon, some other trivial matter eclipsed his marriage and they were soon forgotten. His name was partially restored some years later when he successfully put Lord cum criminal mastermind James Moriarty behind bars for life.

Sherlock's mother never fully recovered from the family disgrace but from time to time would secretly visit her grandchildren so long as 'that woman' was not in her sight. She never forgave Molly for 'leading her boy astray'.

One day the flat below the Homes' residence of 221B Baker Street was let out to an Army Veteran called John Watson and his wife, Mary. Molly, who had been Sherlock's personal medical expert, after her having read every book she could get her hands on on the subject, was with child again and leaving Sherlock in need of assistance. John was all too happy to help, being in need of adventure. And oh the adventures they had!

But that is a new story altogether.


End file.
